


(My) Possessive Bastard

by lavenderlotion



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Clubbing, Daddy Kink, Dancing, Getting Together, Grinding, Hand Jobs, M/M, Making Out, Relationship Reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2020-09-07 00:42:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20300632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavenderlotion/pseuds/lavenderlotion
Summary: Chris was possessive. It was a wonder the entire pack hadn't found out.





	(My) Possessive Bastard

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd.

He and Chris had already been circling around each other for months when it happened. It had all been very dramatic, the way they finally got together. They were investing another supernatural baddie, something that was abducting college-aged guys. Not only that, but the guys all seemed to be gay—or queer in some way—as Stiles was able to find out they all frequently visited the Jungle. 

The pack had assumed they were dealing with some form of Incubus and Stiles had volunteered to scope out the club. His Spark would keep him from falling for the Incubus’ magic and keep him safe. Chris had insisted on going, citing that he had dealt with an Incubus in his early years of hunting and would be able to resist the pull. Stiles had been reluctant to agree for the same reason Chris was insisting ongoing.

Now, Stiles was familiar with the Jungle and if he was going to the club for pack business, he was still going to enjoy himself. He was dressed for the occasion, tight, tight jeans and a cropped shirt that Danny insisted looked good. Stiles had left Chris at the bar—snagging a drink and giving Ares, his favourite bartender, a long kiss in appreciation as per tradition—and weaved his way through the mass of bodies.

He had been dancing, thumping his hips to the beat and revealing in the feel. The music was loud in his ears, all but blocking out anything but the low bass. The room smelled like sweat and sex and the air was heavy with shared adrenaline. Someone had crowded up behind up, a hard chest to his back and Stiles hadn’t protested. The man hadn’t caged him in, just settled wide palms softly on the sides of his hips and Stiles didn’t mind sharing the dance.

That was until another body was pressing against his front, arms now winding around his back to grasp at his ass and hitch him even closer, pulling him away from the comfortable grind he had been a part of. He opened his eyes to protest, mouth already dropping open to argue and magic flaring in his chest when his breath caught, his hands slowly coming to rest on the chest he was pressed against.

Chris just smirked, the smallest twitch to his lips that was nearly covered by his greying beard. It was far more attractive than it had any right to be. Stiles had been surprised to say the least, and that only multiplied when Chris began a slow grind, moving their bodies to a slower version of the song that was blasting around them. Stiles went along with it, heart pumping wildly in his chest, and he just hung on, helpless to do anything else.

They hadn’t stopped for a long time. 

Stiles was hard and aching in his jeans and he could feel that Chris was in the same state. His breath was coming fast, his heart beating hard and Chris’ beard was rubbing against his temple, Stiles’ own face tucked into the crook of Chris’ neck, arms thick and strong where they were wrapped around him. 

Chris grabbed at his ass again, kneaded at the fat there and Stiles whined. He decided enough was enough and backed away, grabbing at Chris’ shirt to get rid of the man's look of panic. He pulled Chris with him, tugging the man along and into the washroom, kicking his way into a stall. He pushed the door closed with Chris’ body, plastering himself to the man’s chest and wedging a thigh between Chris’ legs. He fumbled with the stall’s lock, clicking it in place before looking up. 

Chris was flushed red, the colour bright around his beard. His eyes were shining brightly and opened wide, though his pupils were blown dark. His mouth was half-parted, tongue darting out and Stiles watched its path, leaning forward subconsciously. Chris grabbed his ass again, and it was all Stiles needed to lean the rest of the way up, not bothering with niceties and instead sucked Chris’ bottom lip into his mouth, biting and pulling before darting forward to lick into the man's mouth. 

“Fuck,  _ fuck baby. _ Been trying to wait, trying so hard, bu—” Chris mumbled against Stiles’ mouth, though he cut himself with a groan, fingers fumbling with Stiles’ fly.

“ _ Daddy,” _ Stiles whined, too high on endorphins and his flexing cock to think about what he was saying. He rutted forward, his cock pumping against Chris’ knuckles and painfully digging into his zipper.

Stiles took over, getting his cock out before his fingers jumped to Chris’s pants, quickly getting them down to the man's thighs. Chris’ cock was uncut and while not exceptionally long, it had a weighty girth that had Stiles pushing back into Chris’ hands. The man didn't disappoint and let a finger fall to his cleft, rubbing dryly over his hole, massaging at the tight muscle as Stiles whined in pleasure.

He took Chris in his hand, only distantly aware that the man was sucking and biting at his neck. Chris  _ was _ heavy and his cock was wide, nicely filling his palm. He stroked up once, gently pulling down the excess skin on his down stroke and swiping over the head, digging his thumb into the slit when Chris’ cock spit out a drop of precome. 

Stiles rutted forward, the head of own dick an angry red as he rubbed against Chris’ pelvis, rutting through the man’s pubic hair. The scratch felt good and Chris biting into his neck felt better. He could still hear the music from the club and although it was considerably muted inside the bathroom, it was loud enough that Stiles was pretty sure the noises he was making wouldn’t be heard by anyone other than Chris. 

Stiles grabbed them both in hand when Chris began to press against his rim, his dry finger teasing the muscle. Stiles tilted his head further back, giving Chris more room to maul his neck as he continued stroking them together, making sure to press against Chris’ slit. Every time Stiles pressed his thumb against the opening Chris bit harder and his hips would thrust forward, seeking the stimulation.

“I—Stiles, I’m gonna,  _ oh god,” _ Chris was spilling over them both, shooting high and hard and not stopping, hitting Stiles in the neck and more than a few times on the chest, even more slowly drizzling over their fingers. 

Chris was panting hard and just the sight of the man's orgasm was enough to nearly push Stiles over, though Chris sucking at the bead of come that hit Stiles’ neck was what did him in. Stiles came then, not nearly as hard as Chris—which was all well and good, since Chris had all but slumped into him, pushing Stiles to support most of the man’s weight. 

“Are you okay?” Stiles asked quietly, scared to disrupt the atmosphere. He had no idea what was going to happen now, no idea where they were supposed to go from here—if they were supposed to go anywhere.

“Mhm, so good for me,” Chris’ voice was rough and his breathing was still a touch too fast, “Thank you, baby.”

“You’re welcome, daddy,” Stiles ducked his head at the endearment, not sure how the man would react. Chris just hummed, pulling them tighter together with his right hand, one finger still pressed into Stiles’ ass.

They didn’t talk about it. Stiles laughed when he saw his shirt. It was completely destroyed, fairly soaked through and Chris blushed when Stiles pointed it out. Stiles just brought his hand up to his lips and sucked a glob of their combined cum into his mouth, causing Chris to crowd him against the stall and lick it back out.

Chris had given Stiles his overshirt and Stiles had peeled out of his crop top, using it to mop up the rest of their release from his abdomen. After that, they had left, both too sated to properly be on the lookout for any supernatural creature and just hoping nothing would happen. Chris drove them home and gave Stiles a long, slow kiss before he climbed out.

The next morning was the first time he got a proper look at his neck and, well,  _ fucking shit. _ The entire left side was purpled with bruises, one ridiculously large hickey and Stiles couldn't even bring himself to be upset about. It was a little awkward passing his father, but the man didn’t ask, just give him a long look and reminded him to be safe. 

_ Thankfully  _ Stiles was able to pass it off as some club hookup to everyone else. It wasn’t completely unheard-of anyway, though it wasn’t like Stiles had  _ ever _ made a stranger come—there had just been the occasional heavy make-out session on the dance floor. Besides, it wasn’t like anyone was going to guess it was Christopher.

* * *

Surprisingly—or not so, considering that he was close with both of them—Peter was the first one to figure out Stiles and Chris were dating. Stiles didn’t want to know  _ how, _ exactly Peter had figured it out, but the wolf had. Stiles was more surprised when Peter just congratulated and wished them both well.

So Peter knew, but he was the only one. It wasn’t as though either of them were going to go around and announce it, with Stiles not yet eighteen and still finishing his last year of high school. It just wasn’t a good time, they both had to admit to that. Besides that, Chris was only a few years younger than Stiles father and Stiles was nearly a whole year younger than Allison, so. 

They both decided it was better to keep things under wraps. 

They continued onward, meeting when they could and sending a ridiculous amount of texts back and forth, spending hours talking on the phone. Most of that was at Chris’ insistence and it made Stiles smile every time the man insisted they talk before bed. 

When they  _ could _ get together, could steal minutes, sometimes hours away together it was like they never spent time apart. They fell together easily—both in bed and out of it—and Stiles never thought sharing space with someone could be so easy, that he could be so comfortable in another person’s orbit. 

They worked, and it didn’t matter that they couldn’t spend as much time together as they maybe wanted. They were a strong unit, comfortable together and secure in their relationship. They continued on like that for months, passing Stiles’ eighteenth birthday and his graduation without saying a word. 

They didn’t try to hide it intentionally, or at least they didn't intend to  _ keep _ hiding it, but the timing never felt right. Besides that, they both knew coming out wouldn’t be easy. The timeline of their relationship would be obvious to the pack and the Sheriff, all of whom knew Stiles was dating  _ someone. _ So they waited, letting things run their course and not worrying too much about it.

Things were going fine, in fact. Stiles was preparing to leave for school within the month and although it was going to be hard on both of them, they had already worked things out. With Stiles on his own, Chris would have ample opportunity to visit as often as he wanted. With Allison out of the house and off to school as well, it would make sense for Chris to take more hunting jobs, especially ones that required further travelling.

So they had a plan in place and they were doing well. They were happy and excited about what the future held and the pack still had no idea. It didn’t stop them all from guessing, of course. They were beyond curious, even more so considering Stiles had been the only single one in the pack.

No one could figure he was dating, though. 

Stiles was never seen out on dates, nor was he seen spending time with one outside of the pack. Apparently, he also didn’t smell like anyone new and the pack had begun to doubt he was honestly dating anyone. Jackson had made a particularly snide comment about Stiles and ’ _ attention-seeking’ _ and Chris had been there to hear it. The man hadn’t done anything in the moment, rather waited until they were alone before sucking a new necklace of bruises across Stiles’ neck. 

And then doing the same thing every time they were together.

It was completely ridiculous and Stiles loved it.

So, no one knew he was dating, but it didn’t keep them from guessing. No, that was something they did a lot, throwing around outrageous accusations. Stiles found it amusing, if annoying at times. The worst so far had been when Erica tried to get into his phone and ended up locking him out for three hours.

It was the topic of discussion now, though the only other three in the loft were Jackson, Erica and Peter. It was near the end of summer and no one was rushing to do much, spending days lazing around with one another, soaking up as much time together as they could before many of them split up.

“So Peter, are you dating Stilinski?” Jackson asked, staring hard at the elder wolf.

Peter snorted at that, rolling his eyes before responding with a very flat  _ ’no’ _ , but instead of whatever reaction he was expecting from Jackson, instead the other boy’s mouth fell open in shock.

“Oh my god you are!” the other boy exclaimed, all but jumping off his couch.

“I just told you I am not,” Peter responded though his face was closed off. Stiles spent enough time with Peter to know when the man was putting on an act and that’s exactly what he was doing right now.

“Yes but your heart skipped! Erica, Erica you heard that?”

“It did! So, you’re Stiles’ secret boyfriend, huh?” Erica smirked and Peter copied the look.

“I am not dating Stiles, dear,” he all but purred, victory written across his face. His smile only grew wider when Jackson explained that his heart had remained steady.

Stiles narrowed his eyes, staring hard at Peter. The man wasn’t paying him any attention, and it meant Stiles could think in peace, could put the puzzle together without interruption. He could tell something important had just happened, that the interaction meant something more. If Peter had been lying when he said he wasn’t dating Stilinski, and he wasn’t dating Stiles then—

_ Holy fuck, _ Stiles was right! He had known his father was acting strange as of late, could tell that the man was keeping something from him. It happened so rarely, especially now that Stiles was no longer hiding the supernatural, they didn’t lie to one another. Ever. But, his dad had been hiding something, going out without telling Stiles where, skipping over parts of his day when they talked at night.

Stiles hadn’t been sure just what was going on, not until his dad stopped wearing his wedding ring. That was—god, that was almost three months ago so it must have been something serious,  _ especially _ for his dad to stop wearing his wedding ring (though Stiles was pretty sure he now wore it on a chain around his neck).

“Oh my god  _ you’re _ dating my dad!” Stiles all but shouted, tripping over his foot as he scrambled off the couch, picking himself up and launching himself at Peter in a huge hug.

“I—yes, that is true,” Peter mumbled slowly. Stiles could feel the tense lines of Peter’s body but he didn’t let go, couldn’t with how happy he was. “You are okay with this?”

Stiles pulled back, eyes widening in shock at how unsure Peter sounded, “Dude, of course I am! You’re like, one of the most important people in my life? If my dad makes you happy, and you make him happy, well how could I complain?”

“Your father was nervous you would be—upset.”

“Peter, I’m not upset. I’m really happy that if he’s dating, he’s dating someone I love,” Stiles exclaimed, watching Peter’s face turn soft, his smile small and rare.

“I love you too, pup,” Peter said the words into Stiles’ hair, and Stiles squeezed him tighter, smiling into the man's shoulder. 

* * *

Having a dorm was  _ awesome _ . It didn’t even matter to Stiles that he had a roommate—even though his roommate was so far an obnoxious ‘dude-bro’ who still used far too much axe body spray—because he had his own space. Well, he had space away from his father, and his pack, and all the people who could recognize him.

College was better than he thought it would be. Aside from the lack of supernatural threats and how he no longer spent the majority of his free time running for his life, he could also be whoever he wanted. Stiles could readily admit he hadn’t had the easiest time growing up. 

It had taken years for his ADHD to be diagnosed, labelled as a problem child when he really had little control of his behaviour. He was the weird kid, the one that others hadn’t wanted to be friends with. Of course there had always been Scott, but Scott had become his friend and then other people had just left them alone. 

But now none of that mattered. The years of being unlikable, of being labelled as an outcast, were behind him. He could be anyone that he wanted to be, starting over in a new school with new people who didn’t know him. The freedom felt amazing, and as Stiles placed the last box into his dorm room, he couldn’t help but smile. 

Chris came up behind him, familiar hands gripping his waist and holding him tightly. Stiles smiled wider, standing up and leaning back into the man’s bulk. It was so nice to be able to be like this and not have to worry after so long of watching their every step. Stiles felt like he could breathe, for the first time in far too long. 

The dorm room door opening shocked them both. Chris stepped back quickly, and when Stiles caught his eye he looked outwardly calm. 

“Uh, dude, you didn’t tell me there were gonna be parentals?” Bro—_’My name’s Brody but totally call me Bro, k dude?’_—dy said with wide eyes. 

“Oh, no, that’s my boyfriend,” Stiles declared, smiling widely at the declaration. It felt good to say, to  _ tell _ someone else. Sure, Peter knew, but it still felt good. He smiled big at Chris, all but melting at the soft grin he was getting in return. God he— _ fuck _ , Stiles loved that man. Loved him so much it made his heart swell. 

Stiles' eyes were burning slightly, and his cheeks were hurting from the force of his grin. He took a half step forward, Chris meeting him and wrapping him up, Stiles ducking his head and pressing it into the curve of Chris’ neck, pressing the words into the man’s skin. Chris felt it too—he could tell by the grip the man on him, fisting Stiles’ t-shirt at the small of his back and pressing them impossibly closer.

“Can I, like still get high, or?” Bro-dy asked, already pulling his bong out from behind his dresser, raising a brow at the couple. 

It got Stiles to laugh, and he stepped back enough to press a long, soft kiss to Chris’ lips.

Yeah, College was going to be good. 

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos are much appreciated!   
come say hi to me on [tumblr](https://lavender-lotion.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
